To ensure that the society kept its operations in tune with changing times, major adjustments were made to its service delivery system. Greater attention was paid to client rights, a client complaint procedure was instituted, all resource functions (foster parent recruitment, home studies, child placement, residential programs and adoption) were centralized, the senior management position of director of service delivery was established, and the role of branch directors was redefined.
To ensure that the society kept its operations in tune with changing times, major adjustments were made to its service delivery system. Greater attention was paid to client rights, a client complaint procedure was instituted, all resource functions (foster parent recruitment, home studies, child placement, residential programs and adoption) were centralized, the senior management position of director of service delivery was established, and the role of branch directors was redefined.
Service delivery was streamlined by amalgamating Toronto East and Toronto West branches into a single central branch, known as Toronto Branch, which retained the four district offices at 8 Spadina Road, 1678 Bloor Street West, 15 Huntley Street and 741 Broadview Avenue. Etobicoke Branch relocated to a former school building at 70 Chartwell Avenue, while it and the two other suburban branches, North York and Scarborough, all maintained sub-offices in locations where demand for services was high.
Doug Barr’s view was that the society needed to base children’s services on whether a child was likely to be returned home to his or her family or be made a Crown ward. Accordingly, the agency developed better and earlier permanency planning for those children in its care who were not retuning to their birth families. Improved training for foster parents was provided to help them look after the many young people who were increasingly difficult to care for. Family support functions were strengthened through a Child Care in the Community program, while the agency built up its alternate care programs.
In the 1980s, Metro CAS had five alternate care programs and five child care in the community programs. Both made use of child and youth workers and both worked primarily with children who were living at home with their families. Child Care in the Community workers went into the homes of families to work with them on an individual basis, with the focus frequently upon child management training for parents of children under twelve years of age. Alternate care workers provided group services and some individual counselling to teenagers and their families.
Child Care in the Community workers went into the homes of families to work with them on an individual basis, with the focus frequently upon child management training for parents of children under twelve years of age.
The agency was considered a leader in recognizing the skill set these workers needed to draw upon. Jackie Fargnoli, the director of residential services, describes how this came about:
When I joined Metro CAS in 1976, the field of child and youth work was still in its infancy, with the majority of what were then called child care workers being young, well-intentioned people who were committed to the care of children and youth. However, they tended to have no formal training or relevant academic credentials, although many were recent university graduates. They entered the field with no “hands-on” experience to prepare them for the challenge of emotionally charged, volatile, aggressive and vulnerable children and youth.
Behaviour management and daily care of young people through the 1960s and 1970s was generally directed and mandated by psychiatrists, social workers and psychotherapists through written “handling orders” carried out by the child care workers. Indeed, the field was also viewed by many as a temporary work experience and a “stepping stone” to other professions such as social work.
Recognizing the need for intensive formal training and “hands-on” experience prior to working with these vulnerable children, the community college system expanded its curriculum from various night courses and extension programs to full-time accredited programs, resulting in the graduation and certification of qualified and professional child and youth workers.
Starting in the late 1970s, Metro CAS began to shift its hiring criteria to recruit graduates of child and youth worker programs. With recognition of the expertise brought by these professionals and as a result of program development, the agency developed career opportunities and diversity of job tasks specific to child and youth workers. What once was considered just a stepping stone position became an established and recognized professional community.
“With recognition of the expertise brought by child and youth workers and as a result of program development, the agency developed career opportunities and diversity of job tasks specific to these professionals. What once was considered just a stepping stone position became an established and recognized professional community.”
— Jackie Fargnoli
In-house training was upgraded and, under the direction of Connie Barbour, the director of Toronto Branch, Metro CAS made a major contribution to the literature with an impressive 450-page Child Welfare Source Book of Knowledge and Practice. Another book, Preparing for Practice, on the basics of child protection, was edited by Nancy Falconer, the supervisor of a demonstration project to determine whether pre-work training would improve the skills and the eventual retention rate of family service staff. Falconer recalls:
Preparing for Practice came about after the demonstration project was discontinued because of a hiring freeze. Health and Welfare Canada, which had funded the project, said we needed to have something come from the experiment and thought that a training manual would be useful.
I hired Karen Swift to help research and write it with me, and early in the project we both felt a dry manual wouldn’t be very well read or used. We had just six months to turn it out and that included such things as designing the format, finding a printer and getting approval from Health and Welfare Canada. It was a race and my chapters were written on my very first experience with a computer.
Although the pre-work training concept was revived a decade and a half later, logistical problems in 1983 prevented its systematic introduction across the agency. One lasting outcome, however — and one that ran contrary to Falconer’s fear — was the popularity of Preparing for Practice. It was an immediate best-seller and has been in demand ever since.
Meanwhile, in August 1980, MCSS undertook a comprehensive review of the agency’s operations as part of its plan to more closely monitor the work of children’s aid societies. Its interim report contained 168 recommendations, many of them viewed by the society’s management as carping and counterproductive.
Executive director Doug Barr was assertive in his response, emphasizing the society’s uniqueness and its recognition across North America as an acknowledged leader in the field of child welfare. In his view, the legislative mandate was being fulfilled and the citizens of Metro Toronto were being well served. If MCSS did not appreciate this, other agencies in the community did. Crown ward reviews showed the excellence of the agency’s care of children in need of protection. Its public relations work was the best in the province. Other children’s aid societies were interested in its process for planning and budgeting.
Barr’s approach appeared to have a positive effect, as the ministry’s final report was constructive and consistent with the directions already being taken — or being considered — by the agency.
Cost cutting
In this era, communication between MCSS and Metro CAS over funding was often less than amicable, and it deteriorated as the board became distressed by what it saw as gross underfunding. This was exacerbated by MCSS’s request in 1982 that the society reduce its base budget of $38 million by $3 million over three years. Mary Louise Clements, the board’s president that year, did not mince words in her reply to the ministry: “In general, the board finds your proposals of reduction to be ill-timed and irresponsible and your background information inaccurate and inconclusive.”
Her successor, David Fuller, continued the dialogue with an approach that was as diplomat
ic as possible under the circumstances. By this time, however, it was publicly recognized that relations between the agency and its primary funder were neither harmonious nor effectively collaborative.
To manage in these difficult circumstances, tough budgetary decisions had to be made, including staff reductions (among them the elimination of most department head positions at the branches), early retirement incentives, leaving vacant administrative jobs open, a teen admission policy that limited the number of adolescents in care in favour of meeting their needs in the community, and the closure of York Cottage, the society’s staff-operated treatment home for emotionally troubled children.
Although the society placed in other types of care those children in York Cottage who could not return to their families, there was little government funding available to build good community supports and other alternatives to institutional care. The problem was exacerbated by cutbacks in children’s mental health services, tight municipal land use controls that made it difficult to open new group homes, and the closing of training schools for young offenders.
The society’s Lloyd S. Richardson (LSR) program was transformed from one based in a thirty-two-bed residence to one that supported children living in smaller homes in the community. Between 1987 and 1990, the LSR beds were transferred in stages to 24 Gablehurst Crescent, a small, staff-operated group home, and to a number of what were known as “mixed modality” foster homes. There, child and youth workers worked daily with the foster children and supported the foster parents. The program remained unified, however, under a manager and a team of workers who had access to clinical consultation, community resources and school classrooms. According to former program manager Joanne Maltby:
Some of the most challenging of the children did much better than we anticipated once they moved into foster care, where they benefited from a normal family experience. Some even lived with LSR program staff who became foster parents.
As the recession of the early 1980s deepened, staff and foster parents had to cope not only with tighter government funding and more rigorous standards but also with more complicated caseloads. Tension from job insecurity and stress escalated among the almost 700 staff members as well as among the more than 500 foster care providers. One senior manager recalls an instance of how this stress played itself out:
There was a situation where an angry staff member poured a waste paper bin full of water over her supervisor’s head. The supervisor was chairing a meeting at the time. The staff member quit soon after. To lighten the mood, branch director Joan Wilson sent out a memo to all staff stating that, henceforth, all waste paper bins must have a hole drilled in the bottom to prevent the repetition of such incidents.
The stress experienced by staff led to one situation where an angry staff member poured a waste paper bin full of water over her supervisor’s head. The supervisor was chairing a meeting at the time. The staff member quit soon after. To lighten the mood, branch director Joan Wilson sent out a memo to all staff stating that, henceforth, all waste paper bins must have a hole drilled in the bottom to prevent the repetition of such incidents.
Doug Barr resigns
In the summer of 1984, Doug Barr resigned as the agency’s executive director to become chief executive officer of the Canadian Cancer Society. In a farewell message, he wrote:
How does one break off an intimate relationship of some seventeen years? With a mix of feelings, frankly. For, as I look back on three summers as a student working in protection and children’s services, two years on the board as chairman of the social issues committee, over six years as your executive director and all the years in between, I am filled with feelings of nostalgia, admiration and confidence. Nostalgia for the many challenges encountered and overcome, admiration for the depth of talent and commitment among staff, foster parents and volunteers and confidence in the society’s ability to positively and creatively meet the future.
The last half dozen years in child welfare have required incredible versatility and adaptability on the part of us all. We have seen services to children wax and wane as public priorities. We have witnessed the effect on families and agencies alike of a severe recession. We have experienced a heightened sense of accountability to the public for the services we provide. These have not been easy times.
But let it be said of Metro CAS that during this difficult period we did not hide our heads in the sand but, rather, viewed each crisis as an opportunity rather than as a danger. Under restraint, we revitalized and reformed.
“The last half dozen years in child welfare have required incredible versatility and adaptability on the part of us all. We have seen services to children wax and wane as public priorities. We have witnessed the effect on families and agencies alike of a severe recession. We have experienced a heightened sense of accountability to the public for the services we provide. These have not been easy times.”
— Doug Barr
Those who had worked with Barr during his years as executive director were sorry to see him leave, and regretted the loss to the agency of his intelligence, hard work and commitment to children. Some also thought, however, that his combative relationship with provincial officials over funding, and his adversarial opposition to government policies that he believed harmed the well-being of children, had jeopardized the society’s financial backing and its credibility with the province, the agency’s principal funder.
At a time when resources were diminishing, the provincial government tended to view Metro CAS as well funded compared to the other children’s aid societies in the province. The society, in turn, thought the province underestimated the difficulty of meeting the unique needs of a large, diverse and complex urban community.
At a time when resources were diminishing, MCSS tended to view Metro CAS as well funded compared to the other children’s aid societies in the province. The society, in turn, thought the province underestimated the difficulty of meeting the unique needs of a large, diverse and complex urban community. Barr often fought these battles with the government though “an open, honest and assertive relationship” with the media, which he understood and used skilfully, and via a speaker’s bureau that he established. Barr believed that “telling it like it is” would change for the better what he perceived as the government’s and the public’s distorted image of child welfare. As he wrote:
Where we feel coverage of CAS issues has been biased, we have attempted to set the record straight, with positive results. Where the coverage has been accurate, we have communicated our appreciation. It is a relationship that requires constant tending but one that can produce a more enlightened public, a child-focused society that is not always on the defensive and a staff that can hold up its head proudly in public.
“It is a relationship that requires constant tending but one that can produce a more enlightened public, a child-focussed society that is not always on the defensive and a staff that can hold up its head proudly in public.”
— Doug Barr on Metro CAS’s
relationship with the media
He believed that the agency was ultimately accountable not to the government but to the public. According to one senior manager, it was for this reason that:
When he got into budget battles with the ministry he tended to do an end run around them. So he went to the public, saying he was just attempting to take care of the children.
Eventually, the politicians said that enough was enough. I can still remember the famous night when Bob McDonald, the deputy minister, came to a board meeting and just read the riot act, said that the agency would reduce its budget, thanks very much, goodnight. There was not a discussion or any negotiation. This was what was going to happen.
Despite the agency’s seemingly constant state of war with MCSS, the board and staff for the most part supported Barr’s leadership of the society and his efforts to maintain “progress under restraint” in an era of cost containment and increased accountability. As another senior manager at the time recalled:
There were open debates as to which direction the society should be taking on various matters. I recall some very spirited meetings over in the basement of the church next to the Charles Street offices where the board and entire management team were holding public meetings with staff and concerned members of the community around the decisions that were being taken to address the agency’s financial situation.
Mel Finlay
The political, financial and social forces described above were foremost in the minds of the society’s board of directors as they considered whom they should appoint to succeed Doug Barr as the agency’s executive director.
They knew that whoever took on the job would have to work with a provincial government that was less equipped than ever to support new and expanding child welfare and other social needs. For the sake of the agency’s financial and political viability in this changed environment, they wanted a leader who would seek a lower profile than Barr, one more willing to toe the line on the government’s increasing demands for accountability.
They chose Mel Finlay, who for many years had worked in social service policy development for the government of Alberta. He had taken on a significant role in the development of a regionalized structure for the delivery of social and community health services in that province and, at the time of his appointment to Metro CAS, was the local director for those programs in the Calgary region.
This background, along with Finlay’s expertise as a negotiator and with the media, was attractive to the society’s board. They thought that his experience working at the heart of government would foster a less tumultuous relationship with MCSS and enable the agency to comply more readily with the province’s expectations. As Finlay recalls:
A Legacy of Caring Page 26